Why did the Gods create Humanity?
An easy question was asked, but a difficult one to answer definitively. Even amongst the Gods themselves, there is no hard and fast answer. Some believe they created Humanity to act as a servant race, others simply on a whim because they could. Few ever considered, nay, humored, the possibility that Humanity was created as a successor race to the Gods. They were weaker, smaller, lived shorter lives, and lacked the supernatural abilities of their creators, among a myriad of other shortcomings. Before the Gods were the Primordial Gods, ancient, powerful beings whose bodies became the foundation of the cosmos when their great power overwhelmed them. Following their destruction, the Gods, the Titans, Demons, and many other races were born from the Ether and established Valhalla, Midgard, and Helheim. While weaker than their predecessors, these races proved capable of honing and controlling their power, making them in some ways superior. If that's the case, then could not the same be said of Humanity? Weaker than before, but also stronger than before. Why did the Primordial Gods have such power only to die under its weight? Why did their power give birth to the other races? Were the Gods suffering from a built-in compulsion to continue the cycle of succession? Did they subconsciously know Humanity would one day surpass them?
These questions sat within the mind of a single, lone Titan living out his days chained to a rock. The sun loomed overhead with only a few clouds in the blue sky. He would always hope that the clouds would block the sun, but more often than not, his hopes were dashed. The bright sun was the only thing that could break his train of thought and pull him back into the dreary reality of his situation. In some ways, he preferred it to death; in others, the monotony made death seem like a relief. However, once he reclaimed his internal questions, he would dive back into them, tuning out the world. There were times he was so focused on his intellectual pursuits, he could ignore the eagle as it flew overhead. It descended, hungry for its daily feast. It landed next to him, eyeing his stomach, then tried to meet Prometheus' spaced-out gaze. Knowing it had no threat to its next meal, it stared straight down and dug its beak into the imprisoned Titan's torso. The act was still painful, but Prometheus soldiered on, refusing to let his thoughts stray towards the pain. He could feel the eagle's violent tug, the tearing of flesh and muscle, the beak clipping away at the liver's connective tissue to the rest of his body. Soon, it would stop, and he was once more deprived of his liver. The eagle swallowed it whole, its eyes widening as it choked down the fatty piece of godly flesh. It screeched, then flew off. Blood poured from the open wound, but Prometheus knew the wound was already starting to heal. By nightfall, he would be whole once more.
These questions inspired his desire to see what Humanity could do. It was these questions that convinced him they needed a chance to assert their position as a valid existence. These questions compelled him to give them fire and knowledge. However, they still needed a guide. His efforts were cut short, and he was unable to save them from themselves. Poor Adam and Eve…had he known of their plight, he could have saved them and prevented the loss of such raw potential to the wilderness of Midgard. Their descendants fared no better. They took his gifts and squandered them, but he knew they could be saved. He could save them, and through him they would find salvation. He could lead them, and together they could rise to the top of the Heavens. Humanity would thrive, with Prometheus to guide them as their ruler…at least until the next successor would come. Then Prometheus would do the same again. First the Titans, then the Gods, and someday Humanity. After all, it does not matter where it comes from or what it's made of, deadwood is deadwood. It must be burnt up or else the ensuing wildfire will consume all, and only Prometheus knew where and when to burn it.
The air continued to cool within the arena. The air surfacing Prometheus' body rippled ever so slightly amongst the dreary cold. The furthest torches from him extinguished, and the room went dark. The only source of light was Prometheus' glowing hair and eyes, the shapes contorting as an unseen, massive, near-psychotic look of pure mania grew on his face.
Prometheus crouched down, the air rippling behind him as he moved. He kicked off the ground, sending stone and ice flying behind him. He collided into Vlad's chest, the metallic armor scalding and sizzling from the heat. Vlad fought back against the pain and heat, digging his feet into the ground to stop the charge. He reversed his swords to aim the points down. He quickly stabbed down, but Prometheus spread his arms out, blocking both of Vlad's arms. He quickly turned his arms and slammed both his hands into Vlad's cheeks, scalding them. Vlad bit down just in time; despite the burns, his jaw did not break or dislocate. He stumbled back a little, and a powerful force slammed into his solar plexus, sending him flying. He landed hard against the ground, skipping along it like a stone across a pond. Vlad came to a halt and scrambled to his feet. He could hear metal flying towards him, but the pitch-black darkness hid it. He had no choice but to duck deep in hopes he could avoid the attack. The chain flew overhead and nicked the column behind him. A loud crack and bright flash erupted on contact. The temporary light illuminated the arena in front of him; Vlad could see Prometheus with both chains now unfurled. "Guess that little gift of yours doesn't work when you can't see me," Prometheus said. "Untrained and unrefined. Pitiful." Vlad threw one of his swords towards the spot where he saw Prometheus. Prometheus caught it between his right index and middle fingers. "Please continue. I love being proven right." He threw the blade behind his back. It fell to the ground, clanged away as it went. Vlad's power could not make out Prometheus. His inner darkness melded perfectly with the arena. Prometheus pulled his right chain back, whipping it against the stone floor as it returned. He started twirling and whipping both chains, the gale of soaring metal enveloping him and littering the air with noise. One chain soared towards Vlad again. He stepped to his left, and it flew past him, but the second found home. Had he stepped to the side and back, he would have lost his head. However, luck seemed to be on his side…to an extent. The chain had not fully unfurled when it struck him. It smashed into the joint connecting his left shoulder to his torso. The brief flash of light burned his eyes as he flew back and slammed into the column. Pain coursed from the spot; his shoulder was dislocated. The armor spared him from a broken bone. He stumbled to his feet and raced around to the other side of the column. Placing his right hand in his left armpit, he raised it hard and fast. With a nasty pop, it was back in its slot, and he could move it again.
"Geirölul! I cannot see him!" Vlad said. Prometheus' chains continued to whip at the column, its stony surface giving way. He was playing with the two. He could easily hit them if he whipped his chain around the column.
"Shit! I can't either!" She yelled.
"We have no choice. Are you still able to tell where you are at least!?" Geirölul focused her mind. She could feel them. The blades strewn about all over the arena, the sword in Vlad's hand, the one behind Prometheus. All of them.
"I can!"
"Then I place my life in your hands. Please focus on each blade if you can. We especially need to find the cloak."
"Do you know what you're asking for!? I could overload my brain with this ploy!"
"I would never ask this of you if I didn't believe in you."
Geirölul grumbled and was glad Vlad could not see the slight blush and teeth-grinding. "Fine! You owe me for this!" It happened, just like he believed. Lights, all around him. In the walls, the floor, and some even stuck in the columns and the ceiling. The sword glowing in his hand filled him with hope. He may not be able to see Prometheus directly, but looking for a dark spot in a brightly lit room was good enough. Vlad ran to his left, ducking under another chain strike. He continued to run, hoping to create some distance from his opponent. He scanned the area as quickly as he could, hoping to find what he needed. Amongst the many small shining lights, he found it. A massive cluster sits in the center of the arena. He had to get it if he wanted to survive, but he had to wait for the right moment. He could hear the chains striking away at the columns as he ran, the brief flashes and blasts getting closer each time. Prometheus was not letting him escape.
"You're a piss-poor example of humanity's potential, Vlad! Consumed and distorted by your gift. What a waste…sadly, I've dealt with many like you before!" Prometheus whipped a chain at the area well ahead of Vlad. The strike tore away at the stone. The debris flew into Vlad's path and struck him. He stumbled to the side, but recovered quickly and continued running. "All of them rabid dogs like you, tearing apart the world and indiscriminately butchering their kin. I shall do Humanity a favor, like I've done before and will do again, and erase the embarrassment that is your existence." Prometheus crossed his arms, swinging his chains around each other. They looped around one another, faster and faster, the closer they got to the end. Right at the end, the two ends slammed into each other, releasing a powerful wave of heat, light, and force. "Fotiá Lámpsis!" The concussive wave of heat threw Vlad against the wall. He could smell some of his hair burning away, but he quickly patted it out. "I'm not done!" Prometheus quickly pulled his chains apart, the coiled metal coming undone at high speed. As they unwound, light travelled down the chains, fully enveloping them. As the two chains ripped away from each other, Prometheus swung his arms back and over his head. "DAKTÝLIOS TÍXIS!" The chains swung at high speed, stretching out. They flew towards the walls and columns. They then flew through them. The scorching heat of the chains cleaved through the stone like butter.
"This is insane, everyone! First, Prometheus soaked up all the heat, and now he's throwing it all at Vlad with these crazy moves while tearing the arena apart! I don't know what's going to give first: Vlad, the arena, or even me!? It's like a freezer in here!" Heimdall shouted, trying to stay out of the way of the blaze and metal. Prometheus swung and twirled his arms, pulling the chains back towards him. Both coiled around him effortlessly, and their glow dimmed. Prometheus now stood at the epicenter of what could only be called devastation. Several of the columns were cut in twain and partially melted. The walls bore large and long gashes running parallel to the wall. Large and small chunks of stone are strewn about everywhere. He took in his work, surveying it slowly. His mirthless, smug grin never wavered.
"What a tragedy. Another Human destroyed by his ignorance. Don't you all see now?" Prometheus asked the unseen human audience. "You need me! Such power is dangerous. I cannot stop it from occurring, but I can…control it. Such a thing is necessary. You all see it now, right? What happens when there's no power above you, all keeping things in check? Such beings like him appear. The depraved and broken." Something began to stir to Prometheus' right. He looked over, leering. Suddenly, something exploded out of the rubble and sprinted towards the center of the room towards a silver cloak. "Still alive? Guess my work isn't done just yet."
"So that's what he was planning," Zeus said.
"Pardon?" Set asked as he looked down at his tablet, checking the score between the Fighters.
Prometheus 68%
Vlad Dracul Tepes 32%
He turned his attention back to Zeus.
"Prometheus is a Fire Titan. Not something particularly special since many beings are capable of wielding fire. Most of them were all talk, but he was different. Before I beat the snot out of him for the second time, he was doing something similar to this."
"Heat manipulation?"
"Correct. He was trying to find ways to neutralize my lightning through nonsense like this. Too bad he forgot…" Zeus' aura began to flood out from his wrinkled body. "I didn't need it for him."
"So he's learned how to absorb and disperse heat. Explains why the flames and lava cooled. I even saw some ice form."
"You're forgetting something," Yama said. Both looked at him. "Such a power is the transfer of energy. When such a thing happens, whatever it moves through suffers wear and tear. For all that power it gives him, it's also slowly breaking his body down. Look at him." The three stared at the floating monitor above the audience. It was barely noticeable, and even to the trained eye, it was not easy to spot. The skin around Prometheus' eyes, mouth, and scalp was starting to crack. The skin covered by his chains showed the same degradation. "Those who wield fire know better than anyone that reckless use will lead to death."
Vlad sprinted towards the glowing mass hidden by the rubble. Despite the destruction surrounding the two, he could still make out Geirölul's presence throughout the arena. He stopped in front of a few pieces of stone, picked them up and threw them away, and pulled out his cloak. He quickly attached it back to his shoulders as before and turned to face Prometheus, ready for the battle. His stomach sank. What was once a dark and empty void now glowed. It was not a soft glow as Geirölul or blindly incandescent as Zeus, but it was there. He started to see Prometheus' features, including the wounds Vlad inflicted earlier. I…I don't understand. What's going on? Vlad thought. Why is he shining?
"See something, Vlad? Something that doesn't make sense?" Prometheus asked, smiling. "That look you have is oddly nostalgic from my point of view. Please continue wearing it." The air around Prometheus began to ripple and churn. "It suits you!" Prometheus dashed at full speed towards Vlad. Vlad's focus returned to the battle. Vlad returned his sword to the space between his cloak and his back. He reached his other hand behind his back. Prometheus saw it and stopped immediately. The momentum flung out his arms, and the chains unwound. Both flew towards Vlad, but he twisted his body just in time to narrowly dodge the chains. Prometheus swung them towards each other as he jumped back. The force of the swings and his jump caused the thrown chains to intertwine faster than before. Vlad could not move out of the way in time, but he managed to cover his body with the silver cloak. The chains slammed into his covered body, pushing him back with a heavy clang. He then felt them loop around his body. He tried to muscle out of the them before they finished, but the attack moved too quickly to escape. Bound from waist to chest and both arms now held firmly against his torso, Vlad struggled to break free. Prometheus then pulled, his strength now easily pulling Vlad off his feet. He slid across the ground as Prometheus pulled him along. "Hope this isn't too degrading for you!" Prometheus then gripped his chains firmly in his hand and swung again. Vlad felt the pull tighten the chains coiled around his body. He felt the ground vanish, and he began to fly. Prometheus swung him around in one massive loop again and again. The force of the swing continued to grow with each rotation.
"This is bad, folks!" Heimdall said worriedly. "Vlad's been hog-tied and is now going on one of the worst tilt-a-whirls I've ever witnessed! Yet, he's still conscious!?"
Prometheus could see it in the brief moments Vlad was in his view. Vlad's face was contorted with pain, but still conscious. He lurched and brought the chains down. Vlad followed quickly after and crashed into a nearby pile of rubble. He braced for it the best he could, but his body erupted with pain after contact. He felt the chains jerk him again, and he flew once more. Prometheus was not letting him escape. Vlad smashed through another column and into the wall behind it. "Ready for the finale!?" Prometheus shouted. Prometheus pulled with all his strength, wrenching Vlad free from the wall. He sailed towards the Titan, who was now twisting his body to the right for a monstrous blow. Prometheus knew this blow would kill, and he knew Vlad could not pull any more weapons out while ensnared. "Goodbye, Vlad! I'll make sure we never suffer another defect like you again!"
"Vlad! Do something!" Geirölul shouted. He was sure of his victory. So sure that he had it that he believed everything up to this point was necessary. Hearing the slights and barbs was necessary. Vlad flew towards Prometheus. It was the pivotal moment he needed. It could only potentially work because Geirölul trusted him to use the ability of her Völund at his discretion. Vlad braced himself for the collision, his face contorting from effort. He was only a meter or two away now. Prometheus swung forward, his right fist clenching the chain for additional power. It flew towards Vlad, but immediately stopped and then withdrew. A mass of spears and pikes erupted from the flying monster, all of them aimed in Prometheus' direction. He twisted and bent his body as fast as he could out of the way. He stepped, hopped, and jumped to avoid them all while trying to regain distance. His chain became taut. He looked at the ground near the spear- and chain-covered Vlad, seeing the cause. Several nail-thin spears jutted through several links at odd angles, holding them firmly in place.
"Vlad…just turned into a giant metallic durian!" Heimdall roared. He looked at his tablet for a second, checking the score.
Prometheus 61%
Vlad Dracul Tepes 39%
Sweat began to pour down Prometheus' brow. Shit! Prometheus thought. Where the hell did they come from!? I thought I stopped him from pulling out anymore of those…damn…weapons? A nasty popping sound from Vlad caught Prometheus' attention. He felt the subtle movement in the chains. Vlad, with a re-dislocated shoulder and a slight opening in the chains caused by it, pulled all the spears back in, save for the ones holding the chain down, and violently shook off his bonds. He shrugged and popped his shoulder back in, barely showing any response to the act. He ran his fingers through his cloak, tearing into it and pulling out pieces of material. He threw the chunk in his left hand at Prometheus. As it left his hand, the silver material went rigid and hardened. Prometheus' eyes widened. Shit! He tried to pull on the chains, but the dozens of thin spears holding them in place did not yield. He leaned back until he was parallel to the floor, holding himself up by his chains. The flying blades sailed overhead. He pulled himself back up, right into the path of a sword edge aimed right for his torso. He let go of the chains and let his feet slip out from beneath him. The sword's blade cut into the right side of his stomach and up to his left shoulder. Blood sprayed from the cut. Prometheus winced in pain, but kept his focus. The cut wasn't deep enough to disembowel. He pulled again, dragging himself across the ground. He pulled far faster than he expected towards the spot where his chains were nailed down. Was he panicking? Was the mighty Savior of Humanity panicking? He quickly got up, grasped the spears in both hands, and yanked them out of the ground. He chucked them back at Vlad. Gracefully, Vlad flung his cloak in front of the spears, and they melted into it. Hot air began to flow from Prometheus. His hair and eyes lost their glow. I ran out of time. This is bad. "Tricky bastard, aren't you?" Prometheus hissed.
Vlad said nothing. Rather, his response sent chills down Prometheus' spine. His face was devoid of emotion, save for his eyes. Both wide open, pupils dilated and staring straight at Prometheus. Like a predator on the hunt.
"Sis! That was amazing!" Göll shouted.
"Hell yeah, it was!" Brunhilde said, mimicking Vlad's face. Göll stepped away from her. "Vlad's now showing his true nature and what his Geirölul's Völund can do."
"Exactly…is what I would say if I knew what was going on…"
Brunhilde reached out her left hand and twirled, as if holding an imaginary cloth in her hand. "Ever heard of memory cloth?"
"Not really. Is it like the tapestry the Fates use?"
"Not even close. Memory cloth is a material that you can mold to take on whatever shape you want it to. Normally, it's just used for clothing. However, Vlad and Geirölul took it as a concept and weaponized it, creating the Völund.
Scales of the Dragon's Scion
Their Völund created a cape made of memory cloth that can shape into whatever weapon they need!"
"That's amazing! But, how is he molding the weapons so quickly like that? The ones he just threw changed shape mid-flight."
"Geirölul's power. The one granted by her name, One who Advances with a Spear. Her power over directional movement would normally be used to make something travel in a straight line, as if thrown. However, she's applying it to the cloth which she can 'direct' to shape and mold for Vlad. A shield, spears, throwing daggers, swords!? Nothing is impossible for them!"
"What a weird way to use it, but it seems pretty strong. There's one thing bothering me, though." Göll scratched her head. "Why is he holding back so much?"
"Vlad, are you okay?" Geirölul said, her tone softer than before. He said nothing. His blank expression hid his turmoil on the surface, but could not hide anything from her. "We're linked now. I know what you're feeling. That bastard…you can see him now, can't you?" The sheer indignation before him threw his worldview into turmoil. Why did Prometheus shine? Why was he shining in the same way as his family? As Zeus and Geirölul? Nothing Vlad could think of made sense. He was not a light that illuminated the world, was he? Was his talk of saving Humanity genuine? Were they wrong in thinking he was just using them to build an army? Nothing made sense. What was the light he saw if not something good for existence!? "Vlad…"
I don't know what's going on…nothing about this makes sense. But…I must fight and kill him. That's the only thing that does make sense at the moment…right? Vlad thought.
"We do know what's going on. You're just too cowardly to admit it." A voice from behind Vlad spoke. He recognized it, but did not turn to see the source. A child's voice, but hollow and full of spite. "He is just like Father, Mother, our big brothers, our wife, and Radu. Of course, he would shine with the same light."
"Vlad, who is that talking to you?" Geirölul asked, her voice growing concerned. The voice was unfamiliar.
"She can hear me? Of course, she can. You trusted her enough to perform the Völund. Sad to say, you're going to get her killed. Just like everyone else."
He is nothing like our family! They illuminated the world!
"Yet they abandoned us. Didn't even fight to get us back from the Ottomans. Mahmed treated us better than they ever did. When are you going to realize that light you covet so badly blinded you to their callous selfishness!?"
You lie!
"We were destined to be butchered to secure peace!"
A sharp blow struck the back of Vlad's head. The voice faded as he immediately came back to the arena. He looked and saw Prometheus staring at him, slightly confused. "Are you good now?" Geirölul said. Unbeknownst to him, she manipulated one of the strips of silver material and struck him in the back of the head. It went limp after and melded back into the cloak.
"…Yes. Thank you."
"Don't thank me. Whoever that little shit was got in the way…but he's right."
"What?"
"I'm not an expert or something, but what that voice said is true. You're an Enlightened Human, but that doesn't mean what you're seeing is what you think it means." The implications of that truth made Vlad's blood go cold. What did it mean? "However, we can figure that out after we win. This jackass isn't leaving this place alive after what he's said and done."
"How can we be sure there's no merit to his words? You think he's lying?"
Another small blow struck his head. "That's not what I said! He's not lying at all! He's being pretty damn honest right now. It's just he sees things the way he wants to and loves making people see them that way too, the arrogant prick."
Her words comforted him, but the uncertainty remained. He needed to find the truth behind this. It was necessary. He looked up at the numbers on the ceiling;
Prometheus 57%
Vlad Dracul Tepes 43%
He's making them see and think what he wants. I've only ever done that when I've shown it. Maybe…it's time to show them all how I earned my name.
He removed his cloak and spun it in the air his head. He stabbed his sword into it and pulled it back down, stretching it into a long, round pole. The spinning cloak draped over him and billowed out like a massive umbrella. The ends conjoined at the pole, forming a large metallic sphere. Several strips of cloth jutted out and twisted into crooked spikes. Vlad tilted his right hand to the outside, the newly-shaped Morningstar hammer slammed into the ground with a mighty thud. "I have attempted impalement, cutting, and even some flaying. Maybe to kill you, I should try crushing you." He pondered. "Want to find out?"
"A crude and undignified weapon. It suits you perfectly." Prometheus said, his voice laced with contempt. He took his stance, ensuring his arms were held out in a striker's stance.
"It does…but it's not the only one." Vlad focused, catching the soft glow of all the weapons strewn about. He made his plan, now it was time to execute it. He grasped the mace in both hands and rushed at Prometheus. Prometheus began to backstep to keep his distance. He needed time to recover from containing the excess heat. The technique was his Magnum Opus, but the strain of containing heat rather than just using it was akin to holding a 600 kg deadlift for several minutes vice just lifting it. His body could not handle the effort to absorb that much ambient heat again without sufficient rest. Vlad, surviving his onslaught and in decent condition, was a dangerous misstep. Prometheus threw his chains behind him towards a few remaining columns. The two circled the columns and went taut. Prometheus leaned forward and pulled. The stone columns immediately broke away from the wall and ceiling, then sailed towards Prometheus and Vlad. Vlad continued his rush, undeterred by the oncoming attacks. Prometheus was caught between the oncoming attacks as he planned. Before either could reach him, he jumped high into the air. The columns flew just below his feet straight towards Vlad. Vlad slid to a halt as he swung his mace back. He waited for just the perfect moment and swung. His mace smashed through the first column, sending rubble everywhere. The swing continued, and the second column suffered the same fate as the first. The attack did what was needed; Vlad was slowed down, and Prometheus was able to gain distance.
Or so he thought. Prometheus could see them mixed in with the rubble, flying towards him. Small and thin, but razor-sharp blades soared towards him. That bastard planned this!? Unbeknownst to the Titan, Vlad's newest weapon was not intended to stay in one piece. Each swing, while powerful, had a secondary intent. Prometheus pitched his right chain up to the ceiling, impaling it. He pulled himself up; most of the blades passed under him, but a few nicked his calves and shins. Why's he throwing more of his weapon away? Wait… An idea crossed Prometheus' mind as he hung from the ceiling. Vlad looked up at him, seeing him perched neatly in between the glowing numbers;
Prometheus 54%
Vlad Dracul Tepes 46 %
"Seems like someone's losing momentum," Vlad said. "Not getting tired on me, are you?" Prometheus knew he was baiting him. He was above such base actions. However, if Vlad could make such a remark, it meant he was giving it away. "You know what you remind me of?" Vlad smiled, his teeth showing. "Meat." Prometheus glared down at him. "I used to hang meat up from the ceiling and walls, just like you are now. It's nostalgic. Ever do that? It can be rather satisfying watching meat hang…and beg for mercy." Vlad emoted well, but the truth was that such torture bored him. Expedient death was a better use of his limited time back then. However, he needed people to think he enjoyed it. He needed Prometheus to think it. "You know…this is oddly poetic. I recall stories of you from when I was alive. Chained to a rock for eternity. Not the same…but isn't that what you're doing now?" Prometheus' mind wrapped itself around that remark. He could not focus on anything else. Not the strain of his arm gripping the chain, or even the pain from the cuts and bruises. "Guess it's only fair that both races you aided chain you at some point, right? No good deed goes unpunished."
Prometheus swung a little, his body limp.
"Well, that human just did something I thought impossible," Zeus said. Set and Yama looked at him. "Prometheus is quiet for once. Never thought I'd see that."
"There are many things we deem impossible, but until we take the right avenues, we never know for sure, little brother." A deep, but firm voice spoke behind the three. They looked back and saw two new Gods enter the Box. Both carried a powerful presence like their younger brother, but their youthful looks did not fade with time. One had short, blonde, wavy hair with deep-blue eyes that matched his skin-tight abdomen and chest-exposing shirt, around his neck was a golden choker, and floating spiked halos around his biceps. His shirt's sleeves were tucked into a pair of seaweed-colored fingerless gloves, complete with blue bands on both wrists. He wore a white waistcoat with golden circular patterns, one which split in two at the front with a single cloth going down like a loincloth over a pair of baggy pants that matched his shirt, which was tucked into a pair of seaweed-colored boots.
Poseidon
God of the Seas
Ruler of All The Oceans of Creation
(Greek Pantheon)
The other God, one with soft-white hair and lavender eyes, wore a decorative eye patch over his right eye, a black choker on his neck, and a white suit with matching alligator shoes. Under his coat, he wore a purple sleeveless shirt that matched the color of his fingernails. Unlike either of his brothers, his ears were pointed and contrasted with his overall regal form.
Hades
God of the Underworld
Ruler of Helheim
(Greek Pantheon)
"Well, well. I fancied Poseidon to show up, but even you, Hades?" Zeus asked.
"Prometheus being somewhat freed is a concern for all of us. Were he to win, it would be necessary for us to be here. Don't you agree, Poseidon?" Hades asked. Poseidon remained silent, staring past Zeus and out into the arena. Set could feel his ill-temper radiate, and knew it wasn't just aimed at the Titan. Prometheus being the Fighter for Villains was the smart play, but a deceitful one. As long as he was there, Set would need to stay on guard. "Exactly."
"Do you think I will need your help? Both of you?" Zeus asked, raising one eyebrow.
"Quite the opposite." Hades and Poseidon walked over to the two empty seats next to Zeus. Hades sat next to him, and Poseidon on the other side. "We're here to keep the collateral damage to a minimum while you deal with Prometheus. Since when does the Godfather Of The Cosmos need our assistance?" Hades said, smiling wryly at his younger brother. Zeus eyed him, but exhaled. He couldn't stay mad at his worrywart of an eldest brother.
"If that's the case, then you're more than welcome to stay! However, the Human Prometheus is fighting may be more than enough to deal with him."
"Really? Who is this Human?" Poseidon stared at the monitor while Hades talked with Zeus. The monitors had gone into night-vision due to the lack of light. He could see Prometheus hanging from the ceiling, and then turned his attention to the Human. Once he caught a good glimpse of him, his grip tightened on his chair's armrest, shattering it. Everyone looked over to him, stunned. His expression did not change, but they could sense it; his pure rage and spite.
"It's him." Hades looked at the monitor, and he was shocked.
"She chose Vlad the Impaler?"
"Yes. The very Human who waged war in Helheim after breaking into your castle and stealing Divine Weapons. How many Demons and such did he kill?"
"Enough that they begged me to personally stop him. How he got down there, I'll never know, but he cannot be allowed to leave either."
"Are you asking for my help in this matter?" Zeus asked smugly.
"Only if you want to." Hades answered, smiling.
"Very well then. He and I already have a promise to keep after this fight, should he win."
Set sat next to the three. He did his best to hide it, but panic began to roll in. Please leave! Zeus was enough stress, but with you two here, I... might pass out.
Back at the arena, Prometheus continued to swing, but did not stir. Slowly, from side to side, like a pendulum in a decaying clock. Did Vlad's words get to him? He could not tell. When he defected to Zeus' side, he felt no shame turning against his brethren. When he began his efforts to train Humanity and was punished for it, he took the barbs from the Gods in stride. Everything thrown his way: scorn, vitriol, contempt, disdain, mockery. Nothing ever fazed him. He always felt that no matter the words, his cause and efforts would be vindicated. However…
Orange flames roared from Prometheus' body. The chains ignited with bright orange light, and the embedded chain links blasted the ceiling to pieces. Prometheus dropped to the ground, slamming into the floor feet first. The floor began to melt around his feet as he stood up to face Vlad. Vlad rested his mace across his shoulders, staring back at Prometheus' murderous stare. "I must admit…those words hurt something fierce. No one's ever gotten to me that way…strange. I started this match pitying you, but now…" The flames began to change. The bright orange turned to yellow, then blue. Vlad could hear the air hiss around him. "I think I hate you, you ungrateful mouthy shit." Prometheus twisted his arms to wrap the chains around them. Vlad snorted. Neither bothered to look up at the score, but in dim numbers and letters, the score showed;
Prometheus 50%
Vlad Dracul Tepes 50%
"Bout time you started speaking honestly," Vlad said. He lifted the mace above his head and slammed the pommel into the ground, a few pieces of material falling into cracks on the floor around him. "Come. It's time I snuffed you out."
Valhalla Arena
Entrance Hall
Within the vast Coliseum, one of the simple pleasures and joys it contained was the Entrance Hall. From the large, twin oak doors to the lavish portraits and pottery, the gold statues of every Chief God lined up in the center of the hall from the entrance to the front desks, and even the painted ceilings high above that would make Michelangelo suffer crippling inferiority. With the fights going on, this once bustling hall was surprisingly empty. The news of Prometheus' participation likely convinced the staff to shirk their responsibilities and see what was going on. That was fine, and a welcome bonus for the two who waited there. Myrddin and Gabriel stood at the foot of Odin's statue, waiting for the rest of their party. "How sure are you they'll come?" Gabriel asked as he leaned back against Odin's statue. He stared ahead and absent-mindedly stared at the statue of Zeus.
"I'm as certain as possible," Myrddin answered. "Both opted out of the Roster specifically because they knew about this venture. Do you think them so craven they would back out of both?"
"Of course not. It's just the Circles. The absolute worst branch of Tartarus, and it's three Humans-"
"Two Humans, and a Cambion."
"-I stand corrected, and three Angels. There's a reason why Hades specifically has Yama and his special guard oversee it. Do you think we'll be enough to get past them?" Myrddin heard their approach before Gabriel, but Gabriel felt their presence before him. Two massive, overwhelming auras flooded into the room. He turned to see the sources. "No way…" Gabriel could feel hope returning. If it were these two, it might be possible. He did not know the full extent of Myrddin and Brunhilde's efforts to prepare for Ragnarök, but the fact that these two were here showed they spared no effort. Standing before the two were larger-than-life warriors. One was a broad-shouldered, stout, and bespectacled man in a dark khaki three-piece suit. His moustache and hair were perfectly combed, contrasting with his wild blue eyes. To his right stood an imposing, broad man with a thin moustache, goatee, and calm brown eyes. He wore black, hardened leather armor adorned with iron scales in the interior. His pants and long-sleeved shirt were tucked into leather braces and pointed-toe boots. In his right hand was a black conical helmet, embroidered in intricate gold lines, while his ensemble was held in place by a dark-blue waistcoat and brown leather belt.
"Bully, my boy! Seems we weren't late or lost after all." Said the broad man in a bombastic baritone.
Theodore Roosevelt
(United States of America)
"When you're right, you're right." Said the other, his voice a stern tenor.
Yi Sun-sin
(Korea)
This might be possible. Gabriel thought.
"So then, shall we be off?" Yi Sun-sin asked.